


when you’re not here, i’ll save some for you

by rq_maybe



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/F, Kayfabe Compliant, Past Relationship(s), and uh charlotte is still dealing with it mayhaps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-23 20:43:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16166645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rq_maybe/pseuds/rq_maybe
Summary: Becky and Charlotte had opted to call it quits the moment they realized that they were soon going to be competing for the women’s title, not wanting their relationship to fall apart in the face of the rivalry. Charlotte had taken that as a cue to get mean, to become brutal, to return to her old, ruthless ways.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posted from my tumblr (rebeccaquinoa)  
> the title is from Frank Ocean's Nikes

The entire roster decided to unwind in a club after the show, which in hindsight was a bad idea. Becky knew she should have just gone to bed, gotten some rest, maybe got some quality time with her girl.

But no, her girl had insisted, so now here she was, nursing a drink while watching her girlfriend dance with their co-workers. R-Truth and Tye Dillinger were harmless, and in any case they all knew Carmella was Becky’s new boo. It wasn’t them that Becky was worried about.

No, the person she was worried about was sitting at the bar, playing with the stem of her martini glass, staring at her hotly across the smoky room. Becky and Charlotte had opted to call it quits the moment they realized that they were soon going to be competing for the women’s title, not wanting their relationship to fall apart in the face of the rivalry. Charlotte had taken that as a cue to get mean, to become brutal, to return to her old, ruthless ways.

Becky did not realize how tenuous Charlotte’s hold on her morality was. She did not realize how much Charlotte relied on her to put herself together.

The blonde woman tilted her head, as if asking a question. They had never needed words to communicate. Becky took a sip of her drink, then shook her head. Charlotte shrugged, as if saying, “Suit yourself.”

“Oh I’m having so much fun!” Carmella suddenly exclaimed. Becky hadn’t even realized that her girlfriend had already approached her. “Why don’t you dance with me, Becks?”

“You know I don’t dance, Mella,” she rasped, softly, before brushing a kiss across Carmella’s lips - she knew Charlotte was still watching. “But you have fun for me, okay?”

Carmella pouted a bit, then said, “I’m gonna go freshen up, but when I come back, we _will_ dance, okay?” Without waiting for an answer, she bounded over to the restrooms.

Becky took a deep breath, then glanced over at the bar. Charlotte was nowhere to be found.

*

Carmella was applying her lip gloss when she realized she wasn’t alone in the restroom.

She tensed. “I don’t want any trouble, Charlotte,” Carmella said, as calmly as she could.

“Oh, neither do I, princess,” said Charlotte, coming to stand beside Carmella before pulling out a tube of lipstick. “Just wanted to freshen up, you know.”

They were silent for a few minutes. Carmella, trying to move as quickly as possible without looking as though she was in a panic, put her lip gloss and blush inside her bag. “I’m going,” she said.

“Oh yeah, you do that,” said Charlotte. “Wouldn’t want to keep Becky waiting.”

Carmella couldn’t help it: she glared at Charlotte, and snapped: “Yeah, you would know all about keeping Becky waiting, huh?”

The smug look on Charlotte’s face only further incensed Carmella. “Oh, princess,” was all the taller blonde said.

“You know what, fuck you, Charlotte,” Carmella suddenly said. “You broke up with her, remember?”

“That’s right, I did,” Charlotte said. Suddenly, she was so close to Carmella, looking down at the Princess of Staten Island. “I broke up with her, I broke her heart. I turned my back on her and and burned away a three-year relationship, all because I want the women’s title.”

For a moment, the look on Charlotte’s face was brittle. But it was gone in a flash, replaced by the same smug look that had become all too familiar, that Carmella hated with all her being.

“But you know what, princess? Despite all that, she still wants me. She’s with me every single fucking night, even when she’s with you. Even when she’s inside you, it’s me she thinks about. It’s the thought of me that gets her to come,” Charlotte said, relishing in the shattered look in Carmella’s face, in the tears that appear in the corner of her eyes.

“Tell me, princess,” Charlotte said, her voice low, “When you kiss her, how do I taste like?”

A choked sob was the only response she got. Charlotte smiled.

She pressed a swift kiss to Carmella’s forehead. “I’ll see you around, princess.”


	2. i don’t play, i don’t make time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late night conversations are never good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a Tumblr prompt asking for a conversation between heel!Charlotte and Becky  
> The title is still from Frank Ocean's Nikes, which is a song yall should absolutely listen to.

Her phone rang, just as Becky knew it would.

She debated not answering it. She could let it ring -- or vibrate, as the case may be. She had put it on silent earlier in the night, not wanting to disturb the sleeping woman in her bed. 

The vibrations continued.

She should not answer it. There was no reason to. She  _ knew _ who was calling, why that person was calling -- she even knew from where that person was calling. She’d been having this same phone call nearly every night.

The vibrations continued.

Becky closed her eyes, and grabbed her phone. She took a look at Carmella, sleeping soundly beside her, then stood up. She headed for the balcony of their hotel room, breathed deeply, and answered the call.

“Hello,” she rasped.

“You held out longer this time,” Charlotte Flair answered, sounding amused. “I thought I was going to have to leave you another voicemail.”

“Charlotte,” Becky whispered. “I’m tired. What do you want?”

There was a brief silence on the other end. “You know what I want,” Charlotte answered, her voice steady. “What I want hasn’t changed.”

“You want the title,” Becky said.

Charlotte hummed. “I always want the title, Becky,” she said. “I’ve always wanted the title, even when we were together. Even before you decided to shack up with Little Miss Fake Money.”

“Charlotte, please.” Becky did not want to sound as though she was begging. But she was tired, so very tired, and they have this conversation every night, and she was weak. Charlotte knew every one of her weaknesses, knew which buttons to push, knew which words to use. 

She had believed, naively, that Charlotte would never use that knowledge to her advantage.

But Charlotte had changed. She changed the moment she and Becky decided to go their separate ways. “ _ I don’t want us to wind up hating each other, Becky _ ,” the blonde had said earnestly, when they got word that they would be competing for the women’s belt. “ _ It’s better this way _ .” Through her tears, Becky had agreed - to her eternal regret.

“Becks,” Charlotte said, and Becky shuddered at the sound of her nickname dripping from the woman’s lips. “I want it all. I want everything. And that includes you.”

“You broke up with me,” Becky answered, almost robotically. She’s said those same exact words before, multiple times, and each time she could feel the meaning behind them evaporating into the night air.

“A miscalculation on my part,” Charlotte answered smoothly. “I want you with me, Becky. I want you with me when I win the title.”

“And if I win the title?”

Becky could almost  _ hear _ Charlotte shrug. “Then I’ll be with you when you win the title.” There was a cheerful tone to Charlotte’s voice, one that let Becky know what the other woman thought of her chances. “I just want you with me, Becky. I want you by my side. We’ve always been so good together.”

It was the same conversation every night. Charlotte would call and tell Becky how much she  _ wanted _ her. A couple of months ago Becky would have jumped at the chance. Now, as she pondered all that Charlotte had done since their break-up, she wondered what her role will be like at Charlotte’s side, when -- when, not if -- the blonde became champion.

The king to her queen? Or the jester in her court? Or worse, perhaps, the knight in shining armor who took the hits that the queen would not?

“Charlotte,” she said, her voice wispy, soft and low. “You have to stop. I need to sleep.”

“I see,” Charlotte replied. “Good night then, my love.”

The tears began to slip from Becky’s eyes, hot and unwanted and unbidden. Somehow, she knew Charlotte knew she was crying. 

“Good night,” Becky rasped out, her eyes shut tight, wanting nothing more than to give in, to tell Charlotte yes, to go back to her, to what they used to be -- to return to the arms of the woman she loved, the woman she loves still. 

A few seconds of silence pass. Becky knows Charlotte has yet to hang up.

“Same time, tomorrow night?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Find me on Tumblr at rebeccaquinoa

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Find me on Tumblr (rebeccaquinoa)


End file.
